The Game Is Cold

It's me and Coleone at the pound on perk
 Wanna hit the stripper spot, maybe knock us some work
 It's been a minute, I'm in it still down to ride
 98 Nav' with the screens inside
 Hoes wanna roll, bitches know we go big
 A car full of dope, nigga sittin' on six
 Big like a gat, so now my mack stay low
 With no DL so I bails from fifth-0
 I'm hittin' corners, blocks, driveways and alleys
 Whitewall's and Rally's dippin' up and down Cali
 Might hit the spot, and wanna get down tough
 A bag full of kush and a sack of the duff
 You had enough? You know the staff was down to hurt her
 The bitch was a groupie ho, just fucked C-Murder
 And I'm a motherfucker dick that's Platinum and Gold
 It ain't my fault, that's what I was taught, the game is cold
 ("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
 ("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
 ("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
 ("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
 Guess who's back in the motherfuckin' house
 With a fat sack and a dick for your mouth
 Nigga comin' back with hoes, money and clout
 And tryin' to show y'all what this shit is really about
 Now, I can kick it with B or light up the heat
 Or holler at P, turn up the beat
 Bangin' the fo', the low-low that is
 Or slang dodo or coco, fo' sho' that is
 But I ain't even trippin' no more
 I'm like the Six Million Dollar Man, nigga in slow-mo
 Go bro, take this shit as far as ya ever been
 Shit I'm tryin' to go places, ain't no nigga never been
 But then, niggas steady tryin' to twist me
 In the pen I got the whole Crip card with me
 Come get me, y'all niggas know where I'm at
 Ain't No Limit to this shit, just know that
 Nigga know that, we show that
 ("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
 ("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
 ("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
 ("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
 Up early in the mornin', dressed in black
 I'm to the dope track to get the dope sack
 Blowin', it's Mr. Bill Clinton of Vallejo, California
 With no warnin' shots, just thought I'd warn ya
 I used to campaign, sold D in the rain
 Came Mother's Day, gave chickens away
 Now where I stay, in the Yay, be on the under
 Shit be like a jungle, sometimes it make we wonder
 By the summer, fuck a Hummer, I ball a 'Burban
 If niggas don't get it together, it's curtains
 I'm certain, we all hurtin', all want a piece
 But if you fiddle with mine I turn savage beast
 Leave you creased nigga, like you stole somethin'
 People tell me "Legit, you's a cold somethin"
 Fuck fightin' and frontin', and bustin' over nothin'
 That's how they fold, the game be cold
 ("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
 ("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
 ("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")
 ("I'm goin' in they mouth, down they throat")